Smirk
by Spamanos
Summary: Why?


"You know, you should really know better."

He grabs Romano's wrists and pushes them against the wall, the loud sound of impact reverberating through the house.

"I told you to clean,_ Romano._ Why won't you just obey me for once?"

"I'm not here to do your dirty work, you goddamn asshole! I'm old enough to make my own goddamn decisions!"

Spain smirks and lets out a low, shiver-inducing laugh, and his henchman's limbs shake in his grip.

"Oh, but I think you are. You're _my _protectorate, my henchman." A grin. "And you're supposed to obey my orders." His eyes take on a dark tone, and Romano doesn't like it at all. "Since you're not good for cleaning, I guess we'll have to find out if you're good at something else."

His eyes widen, and he looks away as a flush takes over his face. He's scared. "W-What?"

"Take off your shirt."

"Excuse me!?"

Spain pinches the skin of Romano's wrists. "Did I fucking stutter? Take. Off. Your. _Shirt." _He clutches at the fabric and sneers at it. "_Now._"

Romano looks frightened as he pulls it off- slowly, hesitantly.

"Slower," Spain says, and Romano thinks he's going to throw up- he even gags a little. But he's too scared to rebel with _that_ look in Spain's eyes, so he goes slower, swallowing the bile gathering in his mouth. It stings and feels acidic, like Spain's gaze.

"Fucking useless. Useless little brat," he taunts, slapping him across the face with a sharp swing. "Lazy!"

The tears spill from the Italian's eyes, staining his face as his nose grows red.

Another slap, this time to his backside. "You'll learn to fucking listen to me now, huh!?"

And suddenly, Spain rips Romano's shorts off, along with his boxers, and pushes him flush against the wall with his own body. "You're _mine._ And you need to learn that, you naughty boy." Spain snickers at Romano's tears, and bites into his neck, drawing blood, kissing Romano forcibly, staining his lips with his own blood. "You can't disobey me. Do you know how powerless you are right now?" _Slap. _"Answer me!"

"I-I'm, I'm p-powerless!" His lips quiver. His mouth is raw and dry.

"Good. Stay that way, forever. You're _never _leaving my side." Three fingers are put up to Romano's mouth, and lips brush his ear. "Suck them. Or I'll just take you dry."

He takes the large fingers into his mouth, all hopes of getting away crushed, and sucks on them lightly, swirling his tongue around them.

"You know, I think next time, I'll make you suck my dick. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

_Next time!?_

"Say you'd like it."

"I-I'd like it," he says, muffled by the fingers in his mouth. Drool spills out the side of his lips.

Spain pulls his fingers roughly out of Romano's mouth. "Ready, puta?" He snarls, before shoving a finger into Romano's entrance, not even asking before he begins to move it back and forth.

"H-Hurts...mnn, stop!" Romano is sobbing now, trying to move away. "Stop, Spain!"

"No. I want to see you broken, Roma."

_Don't call me that. Not when you're like this._

He enters the other two fingers, scissoring them quickly and without care for Romano's pain.

"I'm gonna go in now. Moan nice and loud for me, alright?"

Romano bites down on his lip when Spain plunges inside of him, a long groan of pain escaping him. He swears he could feel it in his stomach. He's disgusting. Debauched and disgusting. He lets out little whimpers as Spain thrusts into him repeatedly.

"Dirty whore."

In, out. In, out.

"Fuckin' slut."

Spain hits something inside Romano- he doesn't know what it is- but it makes him feel a tiny bit of pleasure beneath the pain. Not that it redeems anything Spain's done at all. Even when Spain reaches over to fiercely jack him off with a calloused hand- it means nothing. And Spain isn't looking for his forgiveness, either. He just wants Romano to come by his ministrations. Only.

Nobody else will _ever _have his little Italian.

Romano throws his head back and breaks into hysterics when he comes, his release painful and maddening. He hates this. He hates Spain.

No, he doesn't.

He hates the monster Spain's become.

Spain keeps holding out, continuously thrusting straight into Romano's prostate. It makes him make little pained noises as he's fucked into overstimulation. A dull ache throbs through his abused asshole.

"I'm about to come, ngh, Romano." He pulls Romano off and throws him to his knees. "Stay there, bitch." He brings himself to completion and releases all over Romano's face, marking him as his property, his protectorate, his henchman, his _bitch._

"Now go clean the entire house. And don't even think of washing yourself off."

Spain walks out of the room. A creepy grin is plastered on his face, and Romano thinks he can see blood on his hands.

_That's my blood._

He prays for God to not send him to hell. Although hell might be better than this.


End file.
